Phoenix
by Bird of Ash
Summary: This is basically the story of a girl who is in Harry Potter's year who has some interesting family history. I can't really spoil it and besides I suck at summaries so I would ruin it if I did.


**None of these characters belong to me! I borrowed the Sorting Song from the book for authenticity. **

* * *

Phoenix Nyle sat alone in a compartment on the train. She had kissed her mother, Suzanne, good-bye and was already missing her. To keep off boredom, she peeked out the window to see what her fellow passengers would look like. She saw a plump, kind looking, red-headed woman hugging four equally bright haired boys. A little girl, who was unmistakably the woman's daughter, was sniffling. She looks left behind, Phoenix thought. A dark haired boy was getting help from the stockier red-headed boys, who Phoenix just realized, had to be twins. She followed them with her eyes. The dark haired boy was small, his hair a shaggy mess on his head. His entire face portrayed an expression of bewilderment. In short, he looked lost and confused. Phoenix wondered if she looked that frightened too. She'd never been this alone before, in a new country where she didn't have the right accent, where she knew nobody, except Suzanne, and Suzanne was not on this train, not going with her. She was so utterly alone, she might have cried. Phoenix was not a small girl but right there in the compartment with so much joy surrounding her, she felt tiny and insignificant.

Absentmindedly, she chewed on her lower lip, which had been split in a fight. She broke the scab, and tasted the blood on the tongue. The tiny sting of pain didn't bother her, in a perverse way she enjoyed it, it gave her something to focus on. She had gotten it in a fist-fight on her last day at the Muggle school in Canada. Harrison Pose had said some unkind and rather untrue things about Suzanne. One look from Phoenix and through some strange force, he had been propelled through the playground, and had landed flat on his back. That hadn't been enough for Phoenix though. She had thrown herself on him and beat down on him. He did fight back, but she had been the clear winner, when the teachers pulled them apart. With horror she had stared at her hands, which were covered in Harrison Pose's blood, not knowing what had come over her, yet knowing exactly why she'd done it.

Phoenix shuddered. Dark thoughts crowded her eleven year-old mind. Why did she have to think of Him at a time like this? She was already feeling so low and now she had thought of Him. Before she could stop herself, she wondered what He looked like. She'd never seen Him, her mother never spoke of Him; Phoenix didn't even remotely resemble her father, she was thoroughly her mother's child, almost as if genetics had attempted to erase all evidence of Him. But, it hadn't. Somewhere, deep inside her, part of him slumbered, only awakening when provoked, like a dragon in a fairy tale.

* * *

With a start, she realized that the train was in motion and a boy, about her age, was knocking the sliding door of the compartment. His hair was blonde, nearly white actually, and he had been cursed with the unfortunate expression of someone who had been damned to an eternity of having foul-smelling lumps of dung passed under his nose. His unnaturally light hair was slicked back so that it looked like a continuation of his unnaturally pale skin. His eyes were a stormy grey-blue, like the sky before a thunderstorm. With a sense of foreboding in the pit of her stomach, Phoenix nodded, acknowledging the stranger. "My friends and I are sitting here. Alright?" he pronounced, rather rudely.

"Sure"

Two other boys, both built like tanks, followed the rude boy into the compartment. They both had a look of utter stupidity about them, not unlike a pair of confused orangutans, Phoenix though.

The orangutans, as she thought of them, sat on the bench across from her. The pale one sat next to her, rather closer than she would have liked, as he disturbed her, but she was cornered, as she had been sitting right up against the window. "Draco Malfoy" he said, evidently introducing himself, as he extended his right hand for her to shake.

"Phoenix Nyle" She took his hand, which was warm and dry in her equally dry but much cooler hand. He smiled, it looked genuine to her. He didn't look so bad when he smiled; in fact he looked almost nice. He held her hand for a fraction of a second longer than he probably should have, released it suddenly so that it fell in his lap, where she quickly withdrew it to her own. "Those are Crabbe and Goyle" he said, indicating the orangutans with a sweeping hand motion, so that she couldn't tell which was Crabbe, and which was Goyle. One of them, the fatter one, grunted.

"What year are you going into?" Phoenix inquired to make it all a little less awkward.

"First" Draco answered.

"All of you?"

"Yes." Crabbe and Goyle looked older than eleven, they looked almost fourteen, and big for that. It appeared that now it was Draco's turn to ask questions. "Where's your accent from?"

"Same place as the rest of me. A small town in Canada "

"What name does this town go by?" he seemed amused.

"To me: Hell. To everyone else: Cantley" She smiled ruefully.

"Sounds dreadful" Phoenix nodded; what more could she say. To her utter surprise Crabbe and Goyle seemed to have no interest in the conversation or the passing scenery and were staring into space, almost completely motionless. The brief lull in conversation allowed her to examine the English countryside which, true to Suzanne's word, was not particularly spectacular. It was a vast expanse of green and brown punctuated by little mundane-looking villages and dark forests.

"If you're Canadian, why are you going to Hogwarts?" Crabbe or Goyle asked. His voice was thick and deep, the sound reminded Phoenix of molasses for some strange reason. It surprised her that he had been listening, he didn't really look that bright, actually he looked less intelligent that the average sack of potatoes.

"My mother's from Britain, and I don't really have a father, so Suzanne decided I should go to Hogwarts. She went here herself."

"You're mother's a witch?" Draco suddenly took part of the conversation and suddenly seemed a lot more interested.

"Yes"

"And her parents?"

"Her mother"

"Not her father?"

"No"

"What about your father?"

"I don't have a father. Not really"

"Do you know who he is though?"

"Yes" Did she know him as anything other than a name and a dark shadow? No.

"Was he a wizard?"

"He was"

"And his parents?"

"I should think so."

"Good" This disturbed Phoenix. Did Draco, whom she had rather come to like in the past half hour, think only those with pure blood were worth his while? The train rattled on and she managed to make some sort of conversation with Draco, who was a kind boy despite occasional moments where she worried that he was a bit bigoted. One of these occurrences was when the conversation turned to the houses of Hogwarts. "What house would you like to be in? Be honest" Phoenix asked rather innocently.

"Slytherin" Draco immediately shot back without a second's thought, "What about you? Be honest" he smiled his genuine smile, which wavered at Phoenix's response of "Anything BUT Slytherin, actually." Draco shrugged not asking any more information. He stared into space, which allowed Phoenix to look at him closely. He was beautiful, she thought, in the way a sculpture of an avenging angel was. A terrifying, enthralling beauty that only really captured you once you saw past the first part of it. He turned and looked back at her. Had he seen her watching? Evidently, yes, because he smiled and said, "Let's stay friends, no matter what house we're in. Unless you're in Hufflepuff, of course." That last comment ruined the entire statement. Phoenix smiled anyway, she really liked him, in the way one likes a lion or tiger, all though she did not know it yet. He was beautiful and dangerous, possibly even evil, but he had her, fully had her, and he hadn't even been trying. If she had known what it was he stood for, how he would change her life, she would have left the compartment right then and there in disgust. But at that moment she prayed the train ride would never end so she could sit here with him for the rest of eternity.

* * *

It was then that the food trolley arrived. The trolley witch smiled kindly and offered all sorts of sweets Phoenix couldn't recall ever having seen before. She remembered her mother's recommendation "You'll like chocolate frogs, but could you, for me, try a cauldron cake? I used to live for them when I was younger." Subsequently that's what she bought, paying 1 sickle for a bag of chocolate frogs and 4 knuts for the cauldron cake. The boys seemed to know what they were doing and got a load of assorted things. Soon all were busy munching away after which a great trade of chocolate frog cards began. Phoenix had never had a chocolate frog before, and kept all her cards, even the repeats, to begin her collection. The conversation was mostly light, even the orangutans gave occasional input.

When they arrived, Phoenix no longer felt lonely or small, because she had found a friend; Draco Malfoy. But when they got off the train she began to see how he was around other kids, and was horrified. He acted rude and snobby, he jeered at one of the red-haired boys and the lost looking dark haired one she had seen on the platform. The red-haired one was apparently called "Weasley" and the other one was "Potter". Potter. She knew that name. Could it be Harry Potter? She felt her stomach give an involuntary lurch of guilt. Potter. What would she do if it was Harry Potter? Would she tell him about Him? No, that was private information, Phoenix though but then: Yes! It was her duty, she had to tell him. She would think of what to do when she knew who he was for certain, and until then pray that she was mistaken.

The largest man that Phoenix had ever seen was approaching them on the platform and waving a lantern shouting "Firs' years, this way" in a deep voice. Slightly intimidated, Phoenix followed the stream of first year students to the edge of a lake, well, a puddle compared to Canadian lakes, but a lake for Britain. She had lost sight of Draco in the dark and was looking for him. She found him talking to a thin girl with a pointy, unkind face. Jealousy shot up her body in an angry wave that took over her body for a second, and so she missed the commotion about the frog that preceded Hagrid's, for that was what the man was called, Suzanne had said, order for the first years to climb aboard the boats, that were docked along the shoreline. Making sure to tail Draco, she tried to follow him into the boat, where he sat with Pointy-Face, but Hagrid stopped her, "It's too full in there, you'll get the next one." So she ended up sitting in a boat with a sweet looking girl named Hannah Abbot, who liked the name Phoenix, a rather uncoordinated boy named Neville Longbottom, who had lost Trevor, his toad, but had found him, a boy whose name she didn't find out, but it appeared to be Terry, and his friend whom he was speaking to whose name seemed to be Michael.

The boat trip progressed fairly quickly and Phoenix soon found herself staring at her first glimpse of Hogwarts Castle. The turrets and battlements looked dark, mysterious, and slightly eerie in the moonlight. Phoenix found it hard to believe that this more or less would be her home for the next seven years. At that moment she was more excited than ever about going to Hogwarts but could have wept at the memory of the humble lakeside cottage she used to call home. The place was sold and the new owners had probably already torn it down to build something bigger there. She was very emotional, she thought. "Pull yourself together, you'll be crying next" She muttered under her breath. But cry she didn't, instead she beamed with joy.

* * *

The first years were led by Hagrid up a hill to the front gates of the castle, where a woman greeted them and led them into a small room. "I am professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house and deputy headmistress. You will be sorted now. I will call your name and you will put on the sorting hat, after which you will seat yourself at your table, but remove the hat first! Now, I will read your names so that you can correct me on any mispronunciations and so that you know the order. Abbott, Hannah." the other girl from the boat raised her hand. The roll call continued in a similar manner with occasional corrections.

Yet suddenly they were in the Ps with "Parkinson, Pansy" being called and Pointy sticking up her hand and Phoenix realized they were past her name. She felt ill; could it be that she was a Squib? "Potter, Harry". Amid the whispers Phoenix almost groaned; this could not get worse, could it? But she somehow remained silently, unwilling to be a disturbance. The Qs flew by relatively empty and then: "Riddle, Phoenix". Riddle? That wasn't her name! Was there another Phoenix in her year? It seemed unlikely. "Professor" she squeaked, raising her hand.

"Yes. Are you Phoenix Riddle?"

"Well, er- yes, I mean no. Well I think I am but I go by my mother's name. Nyle, Phoenix Nyle."

"I will correct it." Thank God. "By the way, Ms. Nyle, Professor Dumbledore would like to see you at some point tomorrow." What! Dumbledore wanted to see her? Phoenix was absolutely bewildered. Why did she always do something to get noticed? People were looking at her, whispering. Somehow she managed to get through the roll call without too much discomfort and soon found herself and her fellow first years on a stage in front of the entire school.

* * *

Professor McGonagall carried on a three-legged stool and placed an old brown hat, pointed and patched, on top of it. The entire hall sat quietly in anticipation of something. And then the hat began to sing. Its voice was not much, but its words were. The Sorting Hat's song went something like this:

_Oh you may not thing I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall, _

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat,_

_And I can top them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head _

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a steady mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

And thus the sorting commenced. Professor McGonagall read out the names, beginning with Hannah Abbott ("Hufflepuff" the Hat cried after short deliberation, to the cheers of the table with the yellow banner above it) and continuing on the list. For some children the Hat took its time and it was almost a minute before it gave a verdict, for others the Hat immediately had an answer. Draco Malfoy, whose very name made her heart race, barely had the Hat touch his head before it bellowed "Slytherin!" Phoenix's heart sank at that and she fervently hoped not to be in Hufflepuff, although Hannah Abbott, whom she had found friendly, was there. Suddenly she realized that her name was almost up, Professor McGonagall was deep into the N section.

"Nyle, Phoenix"

Feeling week in the knees, Phoenix picked up the Hat and placed it carefully on her head.

"Hmmm" she heard the Hat say in its strange voice "interesting case. There's founder's blood here. SL-"

"NO" She whispered.

"Well what else could I do with you? Let's see… You would do well in Hufflepuff-"

"Not Hufflepuff!" She thought vigourously

"Not Hufflepuff, eh… We're choosy, aren't we? But no, you could fit into Ravenclaw, but that's not right either. You are an odd one, I say! I suppose you should be in GRYFFINDOR!" This last word the Hat had yelled into the Hall. Phoenix rose took the Hat off her head, returned it to the stool, and joined her cheering table; but not before whispering "Thank you so much" to the Hat. She found a seat next to the red twins from the station. They turned to her and shook her hands vigourously. "You really had us fooled; we thought the Hat would yell 'Slytherin'." One of them laughed.

"We're Fred and George Weasley, by the way" they indicated which was which, but most people forgot immediately, because they were identical twins.

"Is your brother getting Sorted?" she asked, remembering the boy Draco had jeered at.

"That would be ickle-Ronniekins." Fred, well Phoenix thought it was Fred, said.

"Our wittle baby bwother-dums" George added making sickeningly sweet faces.

"Hang on," Fred interrupted, "is that-?"

"Could it be?" George continued, grinning.

"Who?" Phoenix asked, completely perplexed.

"Harry Potter. They're Sorting Harry Potter now."

Phoenix immediately felt her heart sink, "Please not Gryffindor. Please not Gryffindor" She begged any deity she could think of, but it was not to be so. After some thought, the Hat did announce "GRYFFINDOR" and Phoenix felt like an icy hand had clamped onto her stomach as Harry Potter, the famous Harry Potter, sauntered over and plunked down onto the space on the other side of the Weasley twins.

Phoenix didn't pay attention to the rest of the Sorting, yet cheered with her table when they did, or Professor Dumbledore's words, or even to the feasting. She suddenly felt very tired and longed to get into bed, not her bed in her dormitory, but her own bed in her own tiny room, in the cottage in Cantley. But the bed had been thrown out, the cottage sold, and she wasn't even in Canada anymore. She didn't even know where Suzanne was. That overwhelming feeling of homesickness, like a brick in the pit of her stomach weighed her down. All around her was joviality and happiness, Harry Potter was eagerly conversing with the youngest Weasley boy, who had also been Sorted into Gryffindor, she could see Draco speaking to another boy at the Slytherin table, Hannah Abbott was laughing at something over in Hufflepuff, and a few metres down the Gryffindor table, Neville had upended a glass of Pumpkin Juice onto himself and an older girl.

Then after the meal ended, the prefects herded the mass of first-years up to their respective dormitories, giving the warning that there would be classes the next day, and the recommendation that they try to get as much sleep as possible. There was a great deal of fuss over brushing teeth and hair and searching for pajamas, then all the girls in Phoenix's dormitory crawled into bed. She found herself in a huge four poster bed with hanging drapes between two similar beds that belonged, on her left, to Hermione Granger, an enthusiastic, slightly annoying girl with wild bushy hair, and on her right, to Lavender Brown, who was slightly sickly-sweet, but friendly enough. Snuggled up in her blankets, Phoenix began to think that Hogwarts was not such a terrible place after all.

There was virtually no chatting between the girls, as they all were too tired to think of something to say.

* * *

**Reviews? Please? Pretty Please? **


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